


Role Reversal

by cablesscutie



Series: Imagine Steve Rogers Prompts [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Sick Bucky Barnes, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablesscutie/pseuds/cablesscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Bucky getting sick during the war and Steve taking care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Role Reversal

The Commandos had been trekking through the woods on their way to yet another Hydra base (the fourth in a month, going non-stop the whole time), and they’d all started to get a bit punchy. As they strolled through the woods, Dum-Dum took it upon himself to lead the men through a rousing chorus of “Hi-Ho, It’s Off to Work We Go.” Steve and his terrible singing voice brought up the rear, trying to avoid having to say any of the words, but marching silly and exaggerated along with the rest of them. They came to a small stream that hadn’t quite frozen over yet, and diverted their march up and over a fallen tree trunk. Steve would later claim that he’d seen disaster coming the instant Bucky turned around to toss a grin over his shoulder; he just couldn’t quite place it in the moment.

As it turned out, the disaster in question happened to be Bucky’s foot slipping on a patch of damp moss, jaunty stride and merry song quickly devolving into frantic flailing and an amusingly high-pitched shriek as he tumbled off the log and landed on his ass in the creek. Luckily, it wasn’t deep enough to carry him away or drown him, but when Steve gave him a hand up out of the muck, he caught an armful of shivering, soggy Sergeant.

Fearing hypothermia, the Commandos set up camp in the first clearing they ran across, Falsworth and Morita throwing together a campfire in record time while Steve helped Bucky out of his dripping uniform and bundled them up together in both of their sleeping bags. The itchy wool made Bucky squirm, but the serum made Steve burn like a furnace, and with the two of them sandwiched together, Bucky’s shivers subsided fairly quickly. By the time Dernier had dinner ready, he was able to get out from under the blankets long enough to pull on some spare dry clothes, but when they settled into their tents for the night, Steve climbed into Bucky’s bedroll too, just to be safe.

When Steve woke at first light, it was to a sweaty, shivering Bucky staring back at him. “You alright, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky sneezed in his face.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, which was honestly, a worse sign than the glazed look in Bucky’s eyes. “Ugh,” he sighed, rolling onto his back and tossing an arm over his eyes to block out the morning light. “Steeb, I feel like shit.”

“You’re apparently delirious too. My name is Steve.”

“Fuck you, I’m dying. Did I make fun of you on your deathbed?” Steve sat up and started wriggling his way out of the sleeping bag.

“Every winter, without fail, for the last decade or so,” he reminded Bucky, getting to his feet and starting to rummage through their supplies. He knew there was no chance that they had any medicine, but maybe there was a cloth he could wet for Bucky’s forehead. At least a can of soup in the rations?

“Oh. Right. I shouldn’t’a done that. This is awful.”

“You bein’ a jerk was the best part of gettin’ sick. Ma never made you go home.” Steve smiled warmly at him, finding a clean rag and dunking it into the wash basin in the corner.

“‘Cause I was worried out of my skull,” Bucky argued, and then gave a soft hum as cold cotton draped over his sweaty brow. “Thanks.”

“You worried? Really? I never took you for a worrier.” He almost couldn’t say it with a straight face. Bucky Barnes’s concern for the Rogers boy was legendary in their neighborhood. That’s how come the kids on their block at least left Steve alone when he was a shrimpy little kid; why the pharmacist let Bucky pick up Steve’s prescriptions.

“Shaddup,” Bucky slurred, letting his eyes fall shut again. Steve fished a couple dented cans of Campbell’s out of his bag and weighed the decision briefly before replacing the beef vegetable and getting to his feet with the chicken noodle still in hand. He lifted the flap of the tent to head to the campfire, but turned back to ask,

“Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?” Bucky didn’t bother to open his eyes, voice flat and stuffy.

“I’m gonna go heat you some soup. Holler if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“But if you need me -”

“I won’t.”

“I know, I know…Still, I’m right outside.” Bucky looked at him then, eyes flicking over his nervous stance, picking out the concern on his face. The sigh that blew out from his lips was long-suffering, but there was ghost of a smile there too.

“Listen, Stevie. Don’t get your tights all in a bunch. All joking aside, it’s just a cold. Ya ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.”

Much as he’d like to say he held back on the fussing after that, it would in fact, be a massive lie. The boys called him “The Widow Barnes” for a week, until Steve dislocated his shoulder and Bucky became the new subject of ridicule.


End file.
